Hurting
by Hopeakaarme
Summary: Inui calls in panic, but Oishi just doesn't care anymore. Implied shounen ai Golden Pair, InuKai.


Disclaimer: I own very little.

A/N: Another fic born due to a **tenipuriu** chat, this time prompted by a suggestion of an Oishi that simply does not care. "Screw it all, you're on your own" were the exact words used to describe his attitude. I tried my best, but it's probably still OOC -- mostly because Oishi just isn't like that.

* * *

Hurting

* * *

The cell phone rang for the fifth time. A glance at the caller ID confirmed what he knew already -- it was Inui again. The data man had tried to call three times already, so he probably had something important to tell -- something he considered important, anyway. 

Oishi, on the other hand, wondered whether it would be important enough for him to actually answer.

At the seventh ring, however, he sighed. His only other option would be to shut the whole thing off, if he knew Inui at all. Kaidoh had obviously rubbed off too much. Not that Inui had ever been one to give up, but...

"Hello," Oishi said. "What's so very urgent?"

"Oishi," Inui said, sounding as close to panicked as he could ever come. "Oh, it's good I finally reached you. There's --" Inui swallowed, the uncharacteristic action signalling the gravity of his news, "there's been an accident, Oishi. Everybody else is here already, and --"

"What kind of accident?" Oishi cut him off, even himself vaguely surprised at his flat tone. "And where are you?"

"We're at the hospital. There was a car, and Kaidoh -- Kaidoh was running and got hit --" There were tears in Inui's voice now, enough to tell anybody who knew him that he was absolutely out of sorts. Then again, considering it was Kaidoh who had been hurt, it wasn't that surprising. Everybody had their weak spot.

Oishi didn't have to think about his response for long. "I don't care," he said, and, at that moment, he meant it with his whole heart. "You're on your own in that."

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, finally, Inui said, "I don't think I know you anymore, Oishi."

"Great. Neither do I." Oishi smiled humourlessly even though he knew the other couldn't see it. "I worried and cared all the time, Inui, and see how much good it did."

"He'd be sad to see you like this," Inui said. "Do you really think --"

Oishi never found out what he was supposed not to think. At this moment, he ended the call, cutting off whatever Inui had meant to say.

Oishi stared at the cell phone in his hand, wondering if he shouldn't have done that just now. Then, he switched the phone off, knowing that Inui would otherwise call again.

Tossing the phone aside, Oishi lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He thought of Kaidoh and whatever had happened to the younger boy. It had to be serious, for Inui to sound like that. He wondered what Kaidoh's chances of survival were. Inui doubtlessly knew.

Not a long time ago he would have been out of the door before Inui could properly finish his second sentence. Now, however, he found that he simply didn't care. Or, rather, he forced himself not to care -- what good would worrying do, anyway? It wasn't like it would make Kaidoh any better.

Eiji had always told him not to worry so much, he remembered. Several threats of going bald or getting gray hair or even ulcers echoed in his head now as he thought of the redhead. A worrywart, that was what he'd been, according to Eiji at least. Of course, it had always been said with an affectionate and slightly teasing tone, but that hadn't made it any less true.

"Happy now, Eiji?" Oishi asked with a whisper. "Is this enough for you?" He chuckled wearily, placing a hand over his eyes.

Of course, Eiji would not answer, just like he would no more tell Oishi to worry less and just let things figure themselves out for a change. Eiji would never again say anything to him or anybody else.

He remembered clearly the last words Eiji had said to him, whispered so softly he could hardly even hear them, had had to lean closer to catch them all.

"Don't look so sad, Oishi," had Eiji said with a weak smile, and then, with a slightly stronger one, "I love you, Syuichiroh."

Oishi had replied with a slightly desperate "I love you, too," hoping for a response of any kind, anything to make sure Eiji had caught his words. The redhead, however, had simply smiled, then closed his eyes. Not two hours later the monitors had showed a flat line.

Oishi hadn't cried back then. By that point his tears had long since dried, used up during the few weeks leading to that moment, the weeks of worry and fear and a thousand unvoiced questions.

It shouldn't have been Eiji, of all the people. Somebody like him, so energetic and carefree, couldn't become bedridden due to mere illness. Thinking of the pain he'd been led to by what had at first seemed like just a bad case of flu still stung at Oishi's heart.

He'd told Eiji to see a doctor, of course, to get himself better soon. Eiji had said it didn't matter, it would go over soon, but had complied anyway just so that Oishi wouldn't have to worry. Little had he known just how much Oishi would worry all too soon.

Oishi well remembered the amount of worry, all the sleepless nights he had spent thinking of his friend, all the tears he had shed, all the horrible thoughts that had crossed his mind during that time. He'd been worried enough that it had even shown in his tennis -- not that any of the regulars were entirely unaffected. Countless hours he had spent just sitting at Eiji's bedside, talking or listening or just being there, holding the hand that seemed to get paler and thinner every day. On the rare moments when Eiji had cried, he'd held the redhead, later crying to himself twice as much.

By the time it was over, he had decided not to worry anymore, not to cry and wonder because it clearly did no good to anything. The only thing his worrying had managed to do was cause more pain both to himself and to Eiji, who'd felt guilty for causing it -- and hurting Eiji was the very last thing he wanted to do. It had been too painful, he'd decided, too horrible to lose his most important person. Caring too much had been the main reason for his pain.

Still, even as he told himself he would not worry about anything, not wanting to feel the same kind of pain anymore, he found himself wondering about Inui. Would Inui feel the same things, sitting beside an unmoving Kaidoh for too many hours for even the infamous notebook to record? Would he, too, feel all the worry and pain of uncertainty, solved by the even more horrifying certainty? Would Inui hurt as much?

It didn't matter, he decided then. Even if it did, he wouldn't let it matter. If he could ignore it, it wouldn't cause him any more pain. It wasn't like his caring or ignoring was going to make any difference, anyway.

He did hope, though, that Inui wouldn't have to go through the same...

Apparently there were still emotions he wasn't able to push aside. However, he would keep trying.

Perhaps then it wouldn't hurt so much anymore.


End file.
